Rhys Llywelyn wants a quiet life. He wants to pay the rent on his damp flat, keep his bike running, and drink enough tea to survive the Welsh rain. He did not agree to act as a battery for a ghost.
When his toaster starts making breakfast on its own and the hallway lights begin tapping out messages, Rhys realises his crumbling Victorian building has acquired a tenant he never agreed to.
Delyth Pugh died in an electrical fire fifty years ago. She was a 1970s activist, loud, bored, and still furious about unfinished business. Now she is treating the local power grid like her personal playground. She is not just haunting the flat. She is haunting the copper, and Rhys is the only thing keeping her tied to the world.
Delyth is not supposed to exist.
When the Morrígan Department notices the mistake and sends a spectral hound and a wren with a clipboard to deal with it, Rhys has to choose between following the rules or protecting the ghost who depends on him.
If he gets it wrong, the town loses its power and Delyth loses everything and Rhys still has to finish his flower deliveries before lunch.
A cosy fantasy set in modern Wales, where magic leaks into ordinary life and compassion proves harder to file than paperwork.
Is this book for you?
What’s the vibe of this book?
It’s a cosy modern Welsh fantasy set in Abergavenny, where a damp flat, bad wiring, and ancient otherworldly bureaucracy all become one problem. Rhys Llywelyn is a tired florist courier trying to make his rent. Delyth Pugh is a fierce 1970s activist who died in an electrical fire and now haunts the copper wiring. The result is a funny, heartfelt haunting involving rogue toasters, suspicious radios, spectral enforcement, and the small daily struggle of keeping the lights on.
Who is this book for?
This book is for readers who enjoy magic, Welsh settings, dry humour, and protagonists who are exhausted but fundamentally kind. It should suit anyone who likes ordinary people facing supernatural problems with a torch, tin foil, stubbornness, and a strong cup of tea.
What are the closest comparisons?
Readers who enjoy the magic and weirdness of Rivers of London, the warm supernatural character work of The Undertaking of Hart and Mercy, or the cosy everyday struggles of Legends & Lattes may enjoy this book. It has a modern Welsh setting, a gentle comic bite, and characters battling both the Otherworld and the cost of the electric bill.
Is there romance?
No. This story focuses on friendship, trust, and shared responsibility rather than romance. The central relationship is the reluctant, slowly warming bond between a stressed thirty-four-year-old courier and a stubborn ghost who died at twenty-one. Their connection is practical, awkward, funny, and increasingly loyal as they deal with grief, guilt, and the cost of helping each other.
Is this book a standalone?
Yes. This book takes place in the Annwniad universe, but it follows a new protagonist and tells a complete story. You don’t need to read Hounds of Paperwork first, although returning readers will recognise the Morrigan Department and the wider magical world.
How scary is it?
It has tense moments, but it remains cosy fantasy rather than horror. There are spectral hounds, ghosts, and otherworldly rules closing in, but the danger is balanced by dry humour, compassion, and practical problem-solving. The heart of the story is about fixing an old injustice and helping someone who was left behind.
How much Welsh do I need to know?
None. The book is written in British English and rooted in its Welsh setting. You’ll find everyday Welshisms such as “butt,” “mun,” and “cariad,” along with local places such as Skirrid Fawr and the Blorenge. The meaning should be clear from context, and there is a glossary and pronunciation guide at the back of the book.